


Like Ink, Unto my Skin

by MercurialBianca_TheHonorableMrsMcCarthy



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 22:02:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9259352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurialBianca_TheHonorableMrsMcCarthy/pseuds/MercurialBianca_TheHonorableMrsMcCarthy
Summary: The mark on Bert’s wrist appeared six years, seven months, three days, and 11 hours after his parents were killed in a flash flood. His mum’s second cousin had a boy about Bert’s age and she took him in, raising him like one of her own. Luckily the two boys took to each other like fish to water. Or, as the rest of the neighborhood came to know Bert and Thommo, thick as thieves.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, an AU of an AU? Full disclosure, I am a Soulmate Skeptic (TM) so this is my take on the idea. Title comes from this quote. "She's burned into my soul, Like ink unto my skin"

Melbourne, 1918

The mark on Bert’s wrist appeared six years, seven months, three days, and 11 hours after his parents were killed in a flash flood. His mum’s second cousin had a boy about Bert’s age and she took him in, raising him like one of her own. Luckily the two boys took to each other like fish to water. Or, as the rest of the neighborhood came to know Bert and Thommo, thick as thieves.

It appeared the night before they left for Europe to fight in the war. The local oldsters who had been unable to serve were buying the young bucks a pint or four before they had to ship out. Spirits were mostly high. Bert and Thommo had agreed joining the army was the best bet for the family along with being their patriotic duty. And there was never a question about whether they would both go, it was all or nothing, as it had been since Bert and Thommo had become brothers.

 As the two men stumbled back home at the end of the night, it was Thommo who spotted it first. He seized Bert’s wrist and held it towards the street light on the corner.

 “Oiy, what’s this Bert? Other than the 30 minutes I took to say goodbye to Catherine, we were together all night. How’d you get a tattoo?”

 “More like 20 minutes, mate. And that includes going up the flight of stairs.”

Bert’s laughter rang out in the clear evening.

 “Hey, either way I fared better than you did, mate. But, I’m being serious, don’t you see that mark?”

 Bert stopped chuckling when he finally caught sight of the mark Thommo was talking about

 “Oiy, bloody hell. Who marked me? Wait, who marked you?”

 “What are talking about Bert? There’s nothing….”

 Thommo’s voice trailed as he looked to his own wrist. A mark similar to Bert’s had appeared. However, his was on the inside of his wrist, Bert’s was on the outside. It was Thommo who made the connection.

 “Do you know what this is Bert? I read about this, it’s one of them marks you’re supposed to get with a soul mate.”

 “Oiy, we both agreed that was a one-time thing. The moonshine….”

 “Naw, not like that, Bert. I think this is an omen for us going into war together. You’re my brother, right?”

 “Damn right, Thommo. Through thick and thin.”

 “Exactly, brothers and now brothers-in-arms.”

 The two looked up at each other, the cool air and weight of the moment sobering them up. They nodded, clasped hands, completing the pattern on their wrists and hugged.

 “Brothers” they said in unison.

11 years, two months, three weeks, two days, and nine hours later, Bert sat at his bedside and watched his brother die from injuries sustained by a madman driving a Rolls Royce. That day, Bert noticed that a new mark had shown up inside his wrist. It was faint but clear; it was Thommo’s.

++++

Melbourne, 1929

Bert second guessed himself a hundred times before he arrived in Sydney. But he had flown by the seat of his pants, trusting his gut in everything but love for too long. He had to know. Losing Ronnie and Thommo had taught him that anything could happen.

He knew where she was staying. She’d told him that much on the dock that day, when he sent her off. He figured he would start there. He imagined what he might say when he saw her. But big romantic gestures weren’t really his style and every scenario felt awkward.  Before Bert had left Melbourne, Cec had told him to just speak from his heart and it had taken all the love Bert had for him not laugh in his friend’s face. Cec was so sweet and earnest, of course that made sense to him. Bert was not Cec, so in his mind, his words sounded forced and sappy.

He hadn’t even told Dot what he was doing. She and Hugh were making up for months of courtship and they had barely left the house since their wedding. He knew she’d be very cautious about things moving so fast. But Bert was not a naive 20-something constable pursuing an equally naive former maid. He was a man who had been to war and back and she was a divorcee. The rules of the game were just different.

When he tried to picture it, like Mr. B told him to do, things ended up even worse. Angela wound up laughing in his face, or worse, giving him a sympathetic pat on the cheek before heading out with some toff. What the hell was he thinking? 

It was at times like this he missed Thommo the most. He understood Bert in a way few ever had. As always, when he thought of him these days, his wrist would itch. 

"Yeah, I know you wish you could be here too, mate."

It wasn’t until he was at the pub by the docks that he found someone who could remotely relate to his situation. 

“Albert, I have to applaud you. This is one of those times I envy your ability to act before thinking.”

“Right, that’s a compliment, yeah?”

“Absolutely. Here you are, charging forward, grabbing on to life with both hands and following your heart. You appear to be quite the romantic after all.”

“Ain’t you doing that as well Inspector?”

“But I waited almost a year to follow my heart, Albert. I almost lost her to that scoundrel, Sidney Fletcher, a magic act that nearly killed her, or a flying ace ex-boyfriend. We all served in the same war, yet you and Phryne came out of it learning to seize the day. I came home, convinced life was so fleeting, going after anything seemed pointless.” 

“To be fair, Inspector….”

“You might as well call me Jack.” 

Bert chortled a bit.

“That means you have to start calling me Bert. No one calls me Albert except Mrs. Stanley.”

Jack had to smile at this change in their relationship.

“As I was saying, to be fair, Jack, that Group Captain was a handsome fella.”

Jack almost spit out his whiskey and the two men shared a good chuckle together.

“Bert, our hearts certainly have chosen the road less traveled for both of us. Let’s raise a glass to the modern woman, may the fates be kind in our pursuits.”

“I forget you talk like a professor sometimes, but I followed well enough. Down at the docks we used to say, ‘here’s to calm seas and stormy lasses.’" 

Jack tilted his head and gave a nod of approval. They toasted each other and downed the last of their amber liquid in one swallow.

+++

Sydney, 1929 

As the ship pulled into the Harbor in Sydney, Bert felt his heart in his throat. He saw all the lovers greeting each other. The excited jumping and waving of some, and the shy blushes of the others. Everyone on the deck of the ship seemed to have someone waiting for them earnestly on the pier. He knew he didn’t have anyone, why would he, no one knew he was coming. 

He had just about shored himself up for making his way through the rush of people disembarking. He swallowed, trying not to feel too sorry for himself or let fear root him to his spot and turning right back around for Melbourne. 

He sighed, grabbed his meager satchel, and convinced himself that the only thing for it was to get to the hotel and get this over with. One way or another, he’d have an answer. He was one of the last to leave the ship. He bowed his head as he tried to bulldoze his way through the lingering crowd of reunions. Which is why he just about smacked right into the well-dressed woman in the wide- brimmed hat. 

“Beg your pardon, Miss. Wasn’t looking….” 

All words vanished as the woman raised her head to reveal a determined chin, a very kissable set of lips, a lovely set of cheekbones and the most dazzling brown eyes that began to twinkle and shine as recognition dawned. And then, there they were, the two dimples he’d been seeing in his sleep since they’d met. He broke into a huge grin and the two just stood there, staring at each other and letting the crowd flow around them until they were almost alone on the pier. 

Angela spoke first. “I might be looking for a fella who makes a good chaperone. Any idea where I could find one?” 

“I reckon I might be up for the task. Depends on what sort of trouble you’re looking to get into.” 

“Oh honey, I like the sound of that. Just what kind of trouble would a fella like you get up to, exactly?”

“Pretty sure the kind of trouble you’re offering Miss Lombard.” 

Bert pulled Angela into an embrace, kissing her deeply. As lips yielded to tongues, the two pulled ever closer together, devouring each other as if it had been months and not days since she had sailed for Sydney. When they parted to each catch their breath, Bert had to ask. 

“But how did you know? I mean here, today?” 

“I...well, this showed up this morning. So, I followed a hunch.” 

She raised her bare arm for his inspection. Encircled around her wrist was the inverse pattern of Bert’s wrist mark. Bert looked down and saw that Thommo’s mark had been joined by a new mark that matched the one on Angela’s wrist. 

Bert realized that for the first time in one year, two months, five days, and 13 hours since Thommo’s death he felt whole again. A piece of himself that he hadn’t realized was adrift finally clicked back into place. 

“That cheeky bastard. He always was one step ahead.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, this doesn't totally fit into the story I have planned to finish (and I do plan to finish!) for Bert/Angela. For those of you not familiar with my take on these two, you can find it here [The Bombshell & the Ragger](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6226756) AND comes right after the events mention [here ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6985159/chapters/17056842)


End file.
